


Special 2 - The Power of the Name

by stgjr



Series: "The Power of a Name" Series 3 - "Time Lord Penitent" [13]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Multi-Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stgjr/pseuds/stgjr
Summary: The TARDIS decides to bring our narrator and Korra to someone who can help with their problems.  Maybe a dose of good ol' headology is what they need...





	Special 2 - The Power of the Name

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on December 18th, 2014.

It was quiet in the TARDIS. Korra and Asami were napping away in one of the side rooms and I was alone in the control chamber. I found myself idly going through things, looking at what I'd collected in my travels.  
  
So far our journeys had gone well for my friends. Asami had not been disappointed with the sights. And Korra... I could see the improvement now. She wasn't done healing, of course, but she was improving. All of the kind words and assistance she had received from various sources had worked to help her overcome the trauma Zaheer's group had inflicted upon her. The thought of seeing her regain that boundless confidence made me feel contented.  
  
In the silence of the TARDIS control room my thoughts became louder. After all this time... I felt no closer to finding out who I was. What I had been was still closed off to me, either by the mind block or by my own choice to avoid the identity I had assumed. All I had left were the friends I'd made and the actions I'd taken. But I couldn't go on like this forever. I kept flashing back to how I'd looked to Molly Carpenter when she had viewed me with her Sight. A worn out, emaciated skeleton of a man who looked to be fading away.  
  
Was that what I was doing? Fading away?  
  
The old hurt came back. I sat on the steps leading to the door and focused, hard, on my mind. I demanded that infernal box in my head open. I shouted and screamed and plead with it. I directed my full mental capacity toward trying to scramble at memories that I couldn't even be sure were there. Even if I could just get to my _name_.  
  
My head started hurting. I ignored it. "I want... my name," I rasped aloud.  
  
The pain escalated brutally. I felt like my brain was being split open. And I still hung on.  
  
Until everything went black anyway.  
  
  
  
  
I woke up to feel my head still pulsing a little from pain. My hair also felt very wet.  
  
Which, as it turned out, was because Korra was maintaining water over my cranium.  
  
"Are you okay?", she asked, seeing I was opening my eyes. "I thought you'd fallen and struck your head."  
  
"Not quite," I gasped. "I was just struggling with my mental block."  
  
Korra helped me sit up. "I thought I felt something when I was trying to heal your head. It was like a.... a lump or a knot or something."  
  
"I've heard it called a box in my mind, sealing away memories. Even the memory of having those memories over time," I answered.  
  
Asami came through the door behind us, carrying a wet towel and some medicine. "Is he okay?", she asked.  
  
"Bright as rain," I muttered. "Really, there's no need to fuss, I..."  
  
The TARDIS engine suddenly VWORPed to life. We all turned toward it for a surprised moment. I jumped to my feet and went to the console. "Did any of you touch it?"  
  
"No," Asami said. "What's going on?"  
  
"She's activated herself. She's taking us somewhere," I said. I looked over the coordinates even as the TARDIS shuddered slightly. It was a familiar one. It was one I always got when entering certain quantum variability fields.  
  
Which confirmed our arrival world even before I saw the coordinates.  
  
I rushed to the door and opened it, looking to see where the TARDIS had deposited us. Would it be some crisis? Some war or natural disaster or what-have-you that demanded my aid to save lives?  
  
As it turned out, not quite.  
  
We emerged into a forested area that surrounded a quaint little cottage. I took in the view of it. it looked rather old and archaic, with thatch present on the roofing and a garden of gently swaying herbs, a goat pen, and even a constructed series of hives for bees...  
  
 _Hives of bees_.  
  
I felt my mouth dry as I realized just where we were. I swallowed and waited for the other shoe to fall.  
  
"Well, don't just stands there, I don't have all day," a wizened female voice snapped.  
  
Around the side of the cottage a figure stepped up. She was clad in midnight black with a crescent moon clasp over the cloak around her shoulders. Her eyes fixed on us with impatience and, surprisingly, not the least bit of curiosity.  
  
Well, okay, not very surprising, actually.  
  
And I haven't yet mentioned that, yes, she had a hat on. A black one. A _pointy_ black hat.  
  
 _Granny Weatherwax._  
  
The truth is, Esmerelda Weatherwax - "Esme" to, well, just one friend that I knew of - was not a grandmother. She had never married. Indeed, the only male suitor who'd ever pursued her was my good friend Mustrum Ridcully, and only a man of his bullheaded tenacity and courage could have maintained such a pursuit given the formidable nature of the woman in question. "Granny" was an honorific, you see, an informal title, and one rarely used to her face.  
  
"Mistress Weatherwax," I said politely. "I am sorry for intruding, my TARDIS has a mind of its own..."  
  
She stepped up to me. I was still a bit taller than her and I lowered my head to look down, such as it was, to keep eye contact. Of course, trolls on this world were also taller than her, and their name for Granny Weatherwax was _Aaoograha hoa_ , roughly translated as "She Who Must Be Avoided". When an elderly woman makes a race of sentient rock say things like that, caution is only the beginning of wisdom.  
  
"Well, you're here, ain't you?", she continued. "Might as well come in and tell me whats troublin' you."  
  
I opened my mouth to spout a platitude about imposing. A combination of realization and desperate self-defense combined to choke the words in my throat and keep them from merging. "I would be honored," I managed.  
  
Granny Weatherwax made a sort of "hmpf" sound and started toward the door of her cottage. I went to follow, looking back at my Companions. They had rather serious expressions. Clearly my behavior toward Granny Weatherwax had not gone unnoticed and it had a clear effect upon their own thoughts.  
  
"Tell your young friends they can join us," Granny Weatherwax added. "I won't have 'em standing about and causing fuss with my bees."  
  
  
  
  
The smell of freshly brewed tea was the primary sense when we were settled into chairs as guests. A white cat bounded up from a place along the floor to sit in her lap, looking at us with the kind of imperious look one expected from a proud feline. Granny Weatherwax adjusted where its weight was, grumbling "You" under her breath as she did so, before she sipped at her tea and looked at Korra. She had heard of me before and now she knew who my Companions were. "Well now, you're an interestin' one. Strong on the outside, but I can see you're not feelin' too well on the inside."  
  
Korra shook her head. "I've been getting better though."  
  
"Perhaps." Granny took another ship. "But I think the question is do you act'ally want to be better?"  
  
Korra blinked. "What do you mean by that?", Asami asked, her curiosity overriding any reluctance to speak up.  
  
"I've seen it before," Granny Weatherwax continued. "You gets used to being strong, then somethin' comes along and makes you feel weak. And it makes you a bit scared. Makes you think you might be safer if you stop being what you are."  
  
"That's not what this is," Korra insisted, some heat in her voice.  
  
"Isn't it? So you plan to go home soon, girl? Go home and get to work?"  
  
"Well, maybe... soon?" I heard a bit of doubt in Korra's voice. "We're time traveling so it doesn't really matter that I do it now."  
  
"Doesn't it?" Granny Weatherwax let the question sink in for a moment. "It can get mighty easy just travelin' around. You can always go back tomorrow, after all."  
  
"Well, yeah..."  
  
"And then tomorrow it's the same thing," she continued. "You says the same thing. Over and over. Easy to say, easier every time, and then you never go back."  
  
Korra opened her mouth to protest and stopped. She remained silent for the moment. "Maybe I don't need to," she finally said. "I mean, Kuvira and the Airbenders are doing fine. Nobody needs me right now. They might not need me any more. And if they don't need me, maybe I shouldn't bother trying to be the Avatar anymore."  
  
"Well, that's probably true," Granny Weatherwax agreed.  
  
"That's not true at all!", Asami protested. "We always need the Avatar."  
  
"Oh really? It doesn't sound like it to me." Another sip of tea was imbibed. "Of course, that's how things work, girl. People don't always need witches. They don't wants us much either, sometimes. Until they do, that is."  
  
"What? That doesn't make any..." Korra stopped. I suspected she was flashing back to her conversations with Karrin Murphy and Murphy's comparing their jobs as well.  
  
"We're not like cobblers or tailors or the like, girl," Granny Weatherwax said. "People don't always needs us. Until their Mam gets sick, or the little one's a bit peakish, or a first time mother's havin' a difficult time with her babe. Then they needs us. And they come callin' and we come answerin'. It's how these things work. We does different things, but that part is the same. People likes to think they manage on their own. You can't be hoverin' over 'em every hour of the day anyway. So you let 'em. You come when they need."  
  
Korra sipped at the tea as she spoke. "I'm just tired of it," she said. "I just want it to be over. I want to move on."  
  
"Then move on, girl. You has to do it yourself. Ain't nobody else can do it for you." Granny Weatherwax put the tea down. "Just make up your mind about it. You're not travelin', you're runnin'. Runnin' away from decidin' what you're goin' to be. Can't do that forever. Either decide to walk away or decide to get back to it, even if it means gettin' hurt again. But _decide_ , child."  
  
Korra lowered her head in thought. I took a sip of tea, enjoying the flavor a bit and trying to gauge Korra's thoughts.  
  
Granny Weatherwax's head twisted to face me. "And you. I knows about you, Doctor. You faced down the Cunning Man down in the big city, saved the world from that hole and those spirits."  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
"Ain't been back in a while, either," she continued.  
  
"I've had a bad time of it," I admitted. "And I'm not the Doctor anymore. I never was. It was just a name I borrowed from another, greater man, when I sought to live up to his standard. Or try anyway..."  
  
Granny Weatherwax nodded as she recovered her tea. "So you says. Then who are you?"  
  
"I...." I shook my head. "I don't know. My memories have been taken." My head throbbed as I thought of my recent failed attempt to reclaim them. "My name. Everything before I started traveling was taken from me. I don't even remember what species I am."  
  
"So you decided to be like this other fellow, did you?" A sip of tea paused our conversation. "Did you?"  
  
"Did I..." I realized what she meant and nodded. "Well, I suppose, yes. I'm not sure what I was like before, but from my knowledge of him, I have taken up quite a few of his habits."  
  
"And so that's what you've become, man. That's who you are."  
  
"But..." i closed my eyes and laid my tea cup to the side table so I could put my hands together. "I... I went wrong, Ma'am. Terribly wrong. I... I let the name go to my head. I became something terrible."  
  
"Oh, did you?" Granny Weatherwax looked at me intently. "Let things go to your head, you say? Started thinkin' you could make what changes you pleased, force things to go your way?"  
  
"Yes," I said. "I... I almost did something truly horrible. I almost destroyed entire worlds before a friend nearly sacrificed everything to stop me."  
  
She nodded. "Tell me, did this fellow who's name you borrowed do the same?"  
  
I thought for a moment. "Yes, at times, I suppose," I finally admitted, thinking of the Time Lord Victorious.  
  
"Part of how things are." Granny Weatherwax picked up her tea kettle and refilled her cup before setting it back on the table beside her. "And what are you like now? Changing your ways any?"  
  
"Well..." I swallowed. "I'm avoiding going too far. I suppose things are like they were before. Before I lost Katherine." I sighed. "I... I just want to know who I am now. Who I'm supposed to be."  
  
Granny Weatherwax quietly laid her tea back down after I finished speaking. She appraised me quietly. Calmly. Intently. I fought the urge to squirm, as if I was anticipating a scolding like I was an errant schoolchild.  
  
She sat forward slightly. I could see the intensity in her eyes as thoughts roiled about within her. "Is that so?", she finally asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She shook her head. "You're being a fool, that's what you are."  
  
I laughed harshly. "I can't dispute that. I've been a fool for quite a long while, Mistress Weatherwax."  
  
"Maybe so, but that's no excuse to stop thinkin'!", she retorted.  
  
I blinked.  
  
"Yes, you went wrong, sir," she continued. "You started cacklin'. I knows what that's like. I knows those thoughts well, sir, because I fights 'em all the time. But I haven't stopped bein' _me_ over it." She crossed her arms. "And I ain't ever thought of givin' up my name over it."  
  
"I beg your pardon, what...."  
  
"I ain't finished," Granny Weatherwax snapped. "You are what you are now, sir. Whatever you were before, this is what you've become, and taking that name is why! You know Names have power. They defines things, they defines _us_. And fool that you were, you took that Name! You let it into you and you made it your own without thinkin' about what that meant!"  
  
Her voice was more excited this time. She wasn't shouting, really, but she was speaking with power and energy that belied her venerable figure.  
  
Granny Weatherwax continued. "Without thinkin' of what that would lead to. Because Names like that, you don't just throws 'em out because you're 'fraid of 'em. You can't! They sinks into you, become a part of you, becomes what you are. You might as well try to cut pieces of yourself off to throw away, it's about the same."  
  
I remained silent. I knew better than to interrupt.  
  
Granny Weatherwax wet her throat with the tea before setting it back down. "You took the Name, sir, and made it yours," she said, her voice slightly lowered again. At least, until the next sentence. " _And the Name took you and made you its._ "  
  
The cottage went silent. I stared, barely daring to think, not daring to move. I let the words sink into my mind and felt the raw truth within them.  
  
I had been someone else once. Even before I forgot entirely who that was, I had taken the Name of the Doctor, first as a melodramatic boast and then as a pledge to live up to that standard. I had used it everywhere. I had let it become a part of me until I knew nothing else. And, indeed, until I had nothing else. And I had never thought of taking another name, of becoming anything else but the Doctor.  
  
It hurt to look back to those painful times. To losing Katherine, to giving into my darkest impulses when I punished her killers, to my long labors and inevitably failure to restore her, and to the fateful day when I snapped and decided I would be the arbiter of every timeline, that I would "fix" everything. I had walked away from that believing the Name of the Doctor had driven me too far. That the power of thinking I was the Doctor had corrupted me.  
  
But that wasn't true either. It wasn't the name I'd chosen that drove me to those extremes. It was my own decisions. It was my hubris and my rage and my grief. If I hadn't taken the Name of the Doctor, if I'd come up with something else, what would have changed?  
  
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I still would have fallen. I still would have become the Time Lord Triumphant.  
  
I felt tears in my eyes at the thought.  
  
"I understand," I finally said. "But..." I swallowed and shook my head. "What if I don't want to be that anymore? What if I want an identity of my own? Not something I copied from another being?"  
  
Granny Weatherwax finished sipping at her tea. "That is your choice," she said. "You can try. That's part of life. Makin' changes to yourself if you must. But you ain't goin' to work it out if you're not honest with yourself." She looked from me to Korra and back to me. "That's what you've both got to work out for yourselves. Decide what you are. Decide if you're the Avatar and the Doctor or if you wants to be somethin' else. You're the only ones who can make the choice."  
  
I looked to Korra. She looked back at me. Neither of us had anything to say.  
  
"Now, I has to be goin' down to the village to check on Widow Miller's leg," Granny Weatherwax declared, rising to her feet. "I've given you all the time I can."  
  
"I understand," I said. I bowed my head with the utmost respect. "Thank you, Mistress Weatherwax."  
  
"Thank you," Korra said as well, giving the formal palm-to-fist gesture and head bow of respect from her world. "It was great meeting you."  
  
She received a nod in reply. And we were ushered out of the cottage. I made sure to find some bandage cloths and fruits from our pantry to hand over to Granny Weatherwax, who accepted them at the TARDIS door. I nodded to her and received a nod in return.  
  
I then closed the door and went up to the controls. I looked to Korra. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I've got a lot to think about," she said.  
  
"Yes," I agreed. "We both do."  
  
Nothing more needed to be said. I shifted us out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is considered a Special and not a Short due to the major importance it has to the Arc. It just didn't feel right calling it a Short. Especially when it was essentially given the title of the entire overarching series. I thought it fitting as well to have Granny Weatherwax give one of the biggest Wham Lines of the entire storyline of our narrator.


End file.
